


Karma Takes, and Karma Gives

by Fangirling_FTW



Series: Destiel One-Shots [24]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Beekeeper Castiel (Supernatural), Dean is sorry, Established Castiel/Dean Winchester, Fluff, Happy Ending, M/M, Rated teen for language, SO MUCH FLUFF
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-28
Updated: 2018-08-28
Packaged: 2019-07-03 21:00:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15826833
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fangirling_FTW/pseuds/Fangirling_FTW
Summary: The sky has opened up, sheets of water dumping from the sky almost like God is giving Dean the proverbial “fuck you”.  Not that he doesn't deserve it, but his Impala crapping out on the side of the road should have been punishment enough.  His Baby never broke down because he took such good care of her, and apparently even she was fed up with Dean’s shitty behavior.  She'd grumbled to a stop the moment Dean had hit the nearly empty country road, and had refused to turn back on no matter what he tried.He'd been walking for about a mile, and he still had a few to go, so he resigned himself to soaked skin, miserable feet, and overall suckiness.Karma really was a bitch.





	Karma Takes, and Karma Gives

**Author's Note:**

> So I apparently wrote this almost two years ago??? And completely forgot??? Seriously I was going through my google docs and found it and was like "who sent this to me?" Spoiler alert: It was me.
> 
> Anyways enjoy a tiny little ficlet. <3

Of course it's raining.

The sky has opened up, sheets of water dumping from the sky almost like God is giving Dean the proverbial “fuck you”.  Not that he doesn't deserve it, but his Impala crapping out on the side of the road should have been punishment enough.  His Baby never broke down because he took such good care of her, and apparently even she was fed up with Dean’s shitty behavior.  She'd grumbled to a stop the moment Dean had hit the nearly empty country road, and had refused to turn back on no matter what he tried.

He'd been walking for about a mile, and he still had a few to go, so he resigned himself to soaked skin, miserable feet, and overall suckiness.

Karma really was a bitch.

He'd been nothing short of an asshole to Castiel, and he knew it, the bitterness in his stomach worse than any physical discomfort.  The beekeeper and he had been dating fairly steady for a few months, after Dean had pulled his head out of his ass. Castiel was unbelievably patient, he'd waited forever for Dean to come to terms with his sexuality, standing by him as a friend since childhood before they’d grown up and Dean realized Cas wanted something  _ more  _ than friendship.  Then, as Dean started to feel out their relationship, holding hands with a guy, kissing a guy, Castiel showed unbelievable patience again.  Dean was 200% sure that he sent Cas home with more than one case of blue balls, simply because after a steamy makeout session, Dean would panic and stop them before the main event.

The worst part was Castiel didn't resent him for it.  He didn't pressure Dean, he didn't get angry, he'd just smile and brush his hand over Dean’s chin and tell him he loved him.  Dean didn't have a fucking clue  _ why, _ but Castiel loved him.

At least he used to.

Yesterday morning, Dean had woken up on Cas’ couch, Cas pillowed in his lap, hard as fucking granite, and  _ panicked. _

He'd wanted nothing more than to drag Cas up to his lips and kiss him silly, to roll their hips together until the ache in his groin gave way to bliss.  Instead he'd pulled away, scrambling to put distance between them, spouting something about how  _ this isn't working  _ and  _ better off separated _ , and a whole load of shit Dean really didn't mean.  

All he'd really wanted to say was  _ I love you, too _ .  

He'd never been in love with anyone before, and it fucking  _ scared _ him.  So he hurt Cas, flinging his love back in his face and storming out of his house.

He'll never forget the pain in Castiel’s eyes for as long as he lives.

Later that night he'd tried to apologize, but Cas refused to take his calls, refused to answer his apology texts with anything other than  _ it doesn't matter _ , or  _ too bad you don't mean it, seeing as you don't care.   _

The worst one was still burned into Dean’s retinas, it was the one that had made him climb in his car and start the hour drive out into the country to Cas’ bee farm.  The drive that really hadn't lasted long, and was now a sodden, depressing walk of shame.

_ Just forget it. _

Dean refused to believe it, no matter that he deserved it, no matter that he'd said some hurtful shit to Cas.  It was his fault he was in this mess, his fault that he'd effectively broken the heart of the only person with the patience to love him.  Sam had nearly punched Dean in the teeth when he'd told him what he'd done. He had kicked Dean out of his own apartment, which was definitely a reality check.

The rain lessens some, but it almost makes things worse.  Dean’s shoes feel squishy and heavy, and the rain is washing his hair gel into his eyes, making his vision blurry.  Or maybe those were just tears. He's almost there, he recognizes the big oak tree on the edge of Cas’ property, and he bows his head and pushes on.  

How could he be so fucking stupid?  Why did his brain do this shit to him?  Cas was  _ perfect, _ his easy smile that would wrinkle his nose when it got too big, the curve of his jaw that led to that sensitive spot just below his ear that always smells so good.  His blue eyes shining with understanding when Dean gets nervous, his gentle hands with long fingers that soothe away his worries and his anxiety. How passionately he believes in the smallest things, like his bees, for example.

And Cas  _ loves  _ him.  The first time Cas had said those words, quiet and rushed in the Impala before he climbed out of the car, Dean hadn't really absorbed them.  Then the next, when they were standing forehead to forehead in front of the Roadhouse, Dean still didn’t quite believe them. Then the next, panted against Dean’s lips as Cas kissed him against his apartment door one morning before leaving for work.  Cas said them so easily, so often, and each time all Dean wants to do is say it back. But he doesn't.

The square hives come into view through the grey haze of the rain, the telltale buzz of the insects drowned out by the falling water.  So close to his goal, Dean speeds up his pace, nearly speed-walking the rest of the way to Cas’ front door.

He takes the corner around the fence too fast and slips, falling face first in the mud lining the edge of Cas’ driveway.  A rock slices into his knee, and he's sure his hands will be a mess too, but now he's practically covered head to toe in smelly earth.

“I get it!” Dean shouts his frustration to the sky.  “I was a fucking dick!” He pulls himself to his feet, not even bothering to try and wipe himself off.  He stumbles up the driveway, wiping his hand off on the ass of his pants so he can knock on Cas’ door without getting mud all over it.

He holds his breath, his heart practically vibrating in his chest as he waits.

No answer.  Maybe he was in the bathroom?  Dean knocks again. 

No answer.  Dread curls in his gut, cold and heavy.  He knocks one more time, pleading with Karma to just let this go.  

Nothing.

Cas isn't going to answer.  Dean should have known this was a stupid idea.  He really is better off without Dean anyway, seeing as Dean can't even get his shit together to tell Cas-

Dean blinks as the door is thrown open, Cas pulling an ear bud out of his ear, utter and complete shock on his face.

“Dean?” he gasps, his eyes looking over the mess Dean must be.  Dean starts to talk before Cas shuts the door in his face.

“Cas, please, just listen.  I'm sorry, okay? I didn't mean anything I said, I just got scared, because this is all so much, you know, and I'm not used to being wanted.  Not to mention how badly I want you, and you're a man, and I've never felt like this for a man before. And you keep telling me you feel things for me when you really shouldn't, because I’ll fuck this up completely.  Not that I didn't already  _ do  _ that, but I'm here and I want this, and it doesn't make sense.  But you're gorgeous and kind and patient and you love these goddamn bees so much, you really will save the world some day and, and I'm rambling and I have no idea what I'm saying but please, Cas, please, I- I need you.  God I need you and I want you and I don't think I'll ever forgive myself if you really hate me-.” 

The only thing that stops Dean talking is Cas’ hand over his mouth, and Dean finally looks up at Cas’ face.  

His familiar, comforting blue eyes are amused, yet concerned, and Dean flushes through the mess of rain soaked dirt on his face.  Cas’ hand slips from his face gently.

“Come inside before you catch pneumonia,” Cas sighs, and Dean doesn't know if that means he's forgiven but he's afraid Cas will change his mind, so he doesn't argue.  He kicks his boots off, leaving them on the linoleum by the front door, stripping out of his jacket and flannel over shirt. He looks around, a little lost about where to leave the dripping, muddy clothes.  “Just leave them on the floor, for now,” Cas waves his hand downward. “I'm going to make sure the bathroom has clean towels.”

“Clean towels?” Dean asks dumbly, because he's still not sure what's happening.  Cas nods.

“For your shower,” he explains simply, leaving Dean to try and figure out how to keep from dirtying the carpet between Cas’ front door and his bathroom.  He bends and peels his soaking wet socks off, dropping them and his shirts on the floor, and after a brief hesitation, he drops his jeans as well. Cas and he used to skinny dip when they were kids, so it wasn't like him being in boxers and a tee was a big deal, but he still felt exposed as he quickly scurried across Cas’ house.  He makes it to the bathroom without bumping into Cas to find towels, clean sweats, and an old shirt of his he must have left at Cas’ sitting out on the counter. Cas was always a step ahead of Dean, he hadn't even thought about clothes. He blushed and knocked his head against the wall as he turned the water on. Like he needed further proof that Cas was perfect, and way out of his league.  How could he have been so awful to someone so kind?

He showers as fast as possible while still getting the mud off of him, dressing and stopping in front of the mirror for ann internal pep talk.

He can do this.  One word, four letters.  He knows he feels it, now he just has to tell Cas.

He steps out of the bathroom and heads to the living room in search of Cas.  The smell of Cas’ favorite herbal tea drifts in the air, and Dean finds him on the couch, two cups of tea on the coffee table, the sound of the washer running from the laundry room.

Cas’ hair is tousled, like he's been running his fingers through it, and he could use a shave, but he's still breathtakingly beautiful in Dean’s eyes.  Dean drops onto the couch next to him, taking his tea and sipping slowly.

“Thanks,” Dean said softly.  Cas took a measured drink of his tea, then set his cup down on the table slowly.

“Why were you walking to my house in the rain?” Cas asked, his voice even and calm.  Dean was a mess, churning gut and shaky nerves, and he wondered if Cas was just that much better at hiding it.

“Well, I wasn't.  Baby crapped out on me as soon as I turned on your street,” Dean admitted.  Cas raised his eyebrows in surprise.

“You could have called, you know,” he said simply.

“I didn't think you'd answer,” Dean mumbled, dropping his gaze to his lap.

“I've listened to each of your voicemails,” Cas blurted, the first sign of a tremor in his voice.  Dean glanced up at him, hope struggling for a handhold in his chest.

“Cas I'm sorry, I didn't mean any of that shit I said-”

“I know,” Cas sighed.  “But you still said it.”  Silence falls between them as they sip their tea.  Dean couldn't hate himself more than he did in that moment.  Cas finished his tea, setting his empty mug down and sighing heavily.  He's bracing himself for Cas to send him packing, his eyes closed and his chest aching.

Then Cas stands and holds out his hand to him.

“Cas, what-?”  Dean blinks in shock at the offered hand, and Cas sighs in exasperation.

“Dean, you can really be so thick sometimes.”  Cas reached down and grabbed Dean’s hand, dragging him towards the bedrooms.

“What are you-?”

“You've been in love with me since the third grade,” Cas huffs.  And yeah, Dean knows that part is true, he'd figured that out by now.

“What does that have to do with-?”

“It's a word, Dean.  You've been freaking out over a little word, while I've been trying to tell you that I  _ don't care  _ about that word.”  Cas drags Dean into his bedroom, shoving him on the bed.

“So you're saying this whole argument… was just to teach me a lesson?!” Dean blurts, staring up at Cas in stunned shock.  Cas smirks, turning off the light and crawling into bed beside Dean.

“Of course it was, you ass.”  He grins at Dean before laying down on his weirdly large pile of pillows, pulling the covers up over both of them.  “Dean, you have nothing to prove to me, ever.” He opens his arms in invitation, and Dean’s stunned shock turns into a frown.

“You're calling  _ me _ an ass?!”

“Just get over here,” Cas huffed.  And Dean, grumbling loudly and angrily, curls up in Cas’ arms, snuggled against his chest.  “Shut up- you love me,” Cas huffs, running his fingers through Dean’s hair.

“Yeah, I do,” Dean grumbles, smiling to himself.  Cas’ arms squeeze him tighter and Dean sighs, smiling against his shirt.

Maybe Karma wasn’t so bad after all.


End file.
